


You Can't Be Free

by sweetNsimple



Category: Genghis Khan - Miike Snow (Music Video), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Inspired by Music, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Out of character Eobard Thawne, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7836922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because I'm Selfish, I'm obscene..."  Miike Snow's "Genghis Khan".</p><p>Vibe looked up at him with dark eyes full of rage and helplessness and – unbelievably enough – tears.  <br/>No.  He would not fall for this, not again.  <br/>“Even if you kill me,” Vibe said, voice low.  “KillerFrost, the Flash, Green Arrow, Citizen Cold…  They’ll come for you.”<br/>“Then nothing will be different,” Reverse-Flash said.  “Except that you will not be with them.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Be Free

“You’ll never get away with this,” Vibe said from the metal table situated directly under the Dark Matter Ray, a machine of his own creation that would mutate the superhero into a mass of tumors and insubstantial particles.  Vibe had already been genetically mutated by Dark Matter once; a second wave, especially so concentrated, would destroy the delicate chemical balance of his body.

“I believe I already have,” Reverse-Flash said in turn.  He held the remote control for the Dark Matter Ray in his hand.  There were two buttons, one of them completely redundant and the other the form of his imminent revenge.

Vibe looked up at him with dark eyes full of rage and helplessness and – unbelievably enough – _tears_. 

No.  He would not fall for this, not again. 

“Even if you kill me,” Vibe said, voice low.  “KillerFrost, the Flash, Green Arrow, Citizen Cold…  They’ll come for you.”

“Then nothing will be different,” Reverse-Flash said.  “Except that you will not be with them.”

~::~

He had been so foolish, in hindsight.  A young, Latino man approaching him at the mayor Leonard Snart’s Gala had blinded him with his brilliance, with his smile, had charmed him with his pop culture references and unapologetic humor.  Cisco Ramon was his name, and he had seemed so enthralled by Dr. Harrison Wells – Reverse-Flash’s daytime alias and a cover for his true identity as Eobard Thawne – as to have literal _stars_ in his eyes.  They had glittered and Eobard had been captivated. 

As an older man, already in his early fifties, this young twenty-seven year old man who matched him wit for wit had him almost sick with puppy love.  It had been degrading, embarrassing, shameful…  And he had fallen so easily into step with Cisco, so easily allowing himself to be pulled toward the dancefloor so that he could press closer, so that Cisco’s hand would be in his, so that they existed and breathed in the very same space.

For the past eight months, he had come to bask in Cisco’s light, to sway to the beat of his heartbeat, and jump to attention at the sound of his voice. 

How naïve, how gullible, how _stupid_ he had been, to believe that anyone as beautiful and gifted as Cisco was actually interested in a bitter old man such as himself.  Yet, it had taken that evening for him to finally recognize how stupid Cisco had turned him.

He and Cisco were to attend the two year anniversary of Mayor Leonard Snart and the CCPD’s top CSI Barry Allen’s marriage.  Cisco’s close friendship with both men had not initially surprised Eobard as Cisco also worked for the CCPD as a firearms expert.  Eobard felt that Cisco’s brilliance was harshly tampered in such a position and had, on more than one occasion, attempted to cajole and tempt Cisco to work for S.T.A.R. Labs as a mechanical engineer.  A man with a Master’s degree should not be earning as little as Cisco did, doing something as tedious as he did. 

Cisco turned him down each and every time.

That night, however, he and Cisco had made love – how _stupid_ Eobard had been – before hurriedly getting dressed like giddy teenagers and arriving fashionably late. 

It had been one joke – one unintentional pun – that had quickly led to events that caused Eobard’s heart to crash to his feet and splinter into so many jagged edges.

“Don’t be so _cold_ ,” Barry had joked with his husband, smiling.

He thought nothing of it until Cisco added cheerfully, “Definitely not star _citizen_ role model,” and he and Barry had burst into irrational laughter. 

Mayor Snart had smirked and gently touched his husband’s elbow.  It could have been just a pinch that made Barry yelp, but Eobard saw the action occur as if in slow motion.  Leonard’s darker skin met the sleek black of Barry’s tuxedo jacket and, for just a single _second_ , a web of frost expanded across the fabric, there and gone so quickly that it could have been a trick of the light…

Except Eobard Thawne was the Reverse-Flash, and the Reverse-Flash was faster than the Flash could ever dream to be, his every reflex and movement a cunning chess move in relation to every other action occurring around him. 

He was, at first, startled and then amused to realize that the mayor of Central City was Citizen Cold, a metahuman superhero (once one of Central City’s greatest villains called Captain Cold; in hindsight, he realized that Captain Cold had turned to good and become Citizen Cold approximately around the time Leonard Snart had announced he would be running for Mayor) who had the ability to radiate cold and thereby independently from the weather forming snow and ice. 

The second realization happened a millisecond later – if Mayor Leonard Snart was Citizen Cold, that meant that CSI Barry Allen _had_ to be the Flash, the Reverse-Flash’s greatest enemy; Citizen Cold and the Flash were notorious as crime-fighting partners on the field.  Now giving Barry a speculative look, he realized that Barry and the Flash had similar if not entirely matching physiques.  Of course, the Flash had always been intelligent enough to blur his features and voice in the same manner that the Reverse-Flash did, by vibrating very quickly.  Yet, Barry’s long, slim lines were complacent to the Flash’s. 

He felt foolish for not recognizing the similarities sooner.  Barry and Leonard even flirted with one another the same way that Citizen Cold and the Flash did out in the field.  Goodness knew how many times he had been forced to listen to the two beloved heroes trade verbal quips like love notes. 

His third realization came a humiliating decisecond later.

While he had long ago determined the daytime identity of the Green Arrow (Oliver Queen) and had some suppositions of who Killer Frost may be (the forensic autopsy technician with the CCPD, Caitlin Snow, was beginning to look very likely, especially with those unearthly blue eyes and deathly pale skin), the secret identity of Vibe, the metahuman capable of manipulating interdimensional energies, had eluded him. 

Historically, there had been a time when Vibe had worn a pair of goggles; however, before the Reverse-Flash had ever encountered this new hero, Vibe and Team Flash had realized that this was not an adequate disguise.  How Eobard’s minions in Reconnaissance had explained it, Vibe had had an encounter – in costume – with someone who was able to recognize him.  Who this witness had been was unknown, but the encounter had been enough to frighten Vibe into wearing a helmet with the visor always down.  It was very effective in hiding his identity.  His costume as well had been tight and padded in such a design that, for the longest time, Eobard had not even been able to determine the gender of Vibe. 

For simplicity’s sake, he had come to refer to Vibe with masculine pronouns. 

In that moment of dawning realization, however, he looked to Cisco, more amused than weary of the company his lover kept, and was destroyed.  Cisco was giving the couple an admonishing look that was also part humor and said, “You two have to _chill_ or else I’m gonna tell on you and it’s going to get _frosty_ in here.”

Vibe had distorted his voice.  Faced with the reality of Cisco, Eobard also noticed that Vibe’s boots had indeed given the superhero an extra two inches in height, which was another slight yet effective disguise.  Regardless of height and the sound of his voice, however, were those words.

How many times had Eobard as the Reverse-Flash heard some variation of those exact words from Vibe to the Flash and Citizen Cold?  Eobard had assumed – and would eventually recognize that he had correctly done so – that Killer Frost would come if called and would ruin whatever flirtations the two heroes were trading.  Killer Frost had upon several occasions stolen the heat from the very air the two breathed until the Flash was shaking and, incidentally, so was Eobard.  Vibe’s distorted laughter had, more than once, followed a significantly slower Eobard home. 

Eobard stared at Cisco, the love of his life, and felt that his ability to love, whatever empathy he had sustained toward others, had finally been murdered. 

He looked from one to the other and then the next.  This was not just a happenstance.  This had been planned.

Eobard had been infiltrated. 

“Harry,” Came Cisco’s voice from far away.  Eobard returned to the present and Cisco had a gentle hand on his hip, gazing up into his face with concern and confusion.  “Are you doing alright?”

Eobard was screaming on the inside, seething at having been had so easily, at having been _used_ so thoroughly.

He smiled and said, “Of course, love.”  He pressed a kiss to the crown of Cisco’s head, for the sake of reassurance. 

He wanted Cisco to come back home with him that night, after all. 

He wanted his revenge against the man who had stolen his heart and who had never planned to treat it well.

He and Cisco spoke with Barry and Mayor Leonard for some time.  Eobard smiled and joked and charmed and he smiled venom at them in his mind. 

They had never been fast enough to catch him, never smart enough to contain him, never strong enough to defeat him…  And yet, here they stood, and their presence mocked him.  Cisco, on his arm, was not a trophy, but an elegant and beautiful black mamba that Eobard had just realized was not gold. 

They knew.  How they must have laughed behind closed doors. 

His smile was all plastic and edges and no one noticed that he wanted to grab them all in his hands and strangle them slowly.  He reached desperately for some pride and could only recall him and Cisco gentle rocking against one another in bed not too many hours ago.  He remembered Cisco breathless above him, an inferno in his lap, and how he had felt so powerful at the time. 

He now felt so weak, to have so easily fallen into bed.  He had all but eagerly jumped in dick first at the slightest crook of Cisco’s finger and the memory of their rushed and frankly short-lived first time that had once filled him with mirth now turned his insides to ice and his mind to fire. 

They remained for two hours before circling back to Barry and the Mayor.  Lisa Snart, Leonard’s sister and a famous Olympic figure skater, was present this time, and she gave Eobard a very pointed look as she kissed Cisco’s cheek.

On the outside, perhaps, Eobard smiled like a man who knew that his lover would never be unfaithful.

Inside, however, Eobard was chuckling darkly because she was never going to get the chance to turn Cisco unfaithful, if he had ever been faithful to begin with.

“It’s time to go, Cisco,” he said sweetly.  It hurt to hear the gooey syrup his voice had become when saying his lover’s name.

Cisco said a hurried goodbye to Barry before turning back to him.  Smiling, he took Eobard’s hand in his, interwove their fingers, and said, “Let’s go home.”

 _Home_.

Had Cisco ever _truly_ considered it home?  Oh, what a rushed courtship.  Only last month, Cisco’s belongings had been moved into Eobard’s house and their possessions had become so intermingled that Eobard had to pay close attention when putting on his underwear lest he end up wearing Star Trek. 

Oh, how stupid and gullible he had been.

How pathetic and blind.

He almost _deserved_ this betrayal, with how quickly he had given Cisco his trust in so many things. 

He drove them home in amicable silence on his own part while Cisco chattered excitedly and then fiddled with the radio.  Cisco’s singing voice was superb and simultaneously caused every cell in Eobard’s body to rebel and soothed his racing thoughts. 

Years of self-discipline and self-control kept his hands from trembling and his voice from cracking as he took Cisco’s arm again and led him inside their home.  They passed the threshold and he lifted Cisco into his arms.

“Whoa, there!”  Cisco chuckled nervously.  “O _kay_ , you can pick me up.  Great!  Can you put me down now?”  He wrapped both arms tightly around Eobard’s shoulders.  “I’m a bit weird about others p-”

“-icking me… up…” 

Cisco was tense and then shaky in his arms.  His eyes were wide and dark and his sugar sweet lips parted slightly in astonishment.  There was fear in his expression. 

From the foyer, Eobard had dashed them down to the lowest levels of S.T.A.R. Labs approximately fifteen minutes (driving) from his mansion where only his and a handful of his employees’ key cards worked.  This was his lair, for lack of a better term.  A place where he stored his various underlings, weapons, and, upon occasion, his stress. 

It was a sprawled space, with support beams and three stairs leading into a circular depression in the floor.  Machines of incredible design were out of sight, but there remained before him the Dark Matter Ray and a metal slab table.

Eobard had not put those there, but he found their presence inspiring.  (Later, he would learn that one of his newest and more foolish employees had fancied that they would become a metahuman if struck by the Dark Matter Ray; this new and foolish employee then became a mass of cells which then deteriorated into such miniscule matter that it could not be seen through a microscope). 

“You’re him, aren’t you?” Cisco whispered.  Eobard allowed him to stand on his own two feet, even though Cisco appeared incredibly unsteady on his legs.  “The Reverse-Flash.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you’re fully aware of who I am.  _Vibe_.”  Cisco’s wince was the confirmation he needed and not the denial he so desperately wanted. 

Cisco’s expression pinched with anger and fear and, unbelievably, _betrayal_.  There was actual _pain_ in his eyes as he began to move, bringing a hand up, palm vertical, toward Eobard.  He released a bitter laugh as he instantly circled around Cisco, grabbed him once more and instantaneously had him strapped down on the metal slab table.

Some miniscule part of him had hoped to be proven wrong.  Had hoped that Cisco would deny and deny and be confused and even somewhat scared (the Reverse-Flash _was_ a popular villain, after all, the Flash’s greatest nemesis) and would _not_ be Vibe.  They could have moved on from this, perhaps. 

No, they couldn’t have.  Cisco was a member of the CCPD, a character so radiant inside and out that he stopped to pet every dog he was allowed to and babysat for his neighbors in his apartment complex.  He loved to build and create and discover. 

Eobard – the Reverse-Flash – destroyed. 

Knowing the Flash’s secret identity now, he could not promise that he would not do everything in his power to break Barry Allen.  Especially after this, this attack on Eobard’s emotions.

Cisco stared up at the high vaulted ceiling until he finally blinked and shuddered.  He went limp into the table and his jaw clenched and his eyes _shimmered_.

“Don’t look so upset,” Eobard snapped, irritated that Cisco could look so heartbroken when _he_ had broken _Eobard’s_ heart.  “It’s the fault of your beloved _Team Flash_ that this charade ended.  Perhaps Citizen Cold should be more careful when using his powers in such a social setting as his own anniversary party.”  He leaned over Cisco, one hand clenched on either side of his table, squeezing the cold metal until its sharp edges pinched him.  “Perhaps you should watch the things you say.  You made it all too easy for me tonight.  As if whatever you and your Team had planned had finally come to fruition.  Tell me what your plan was and I will make your death quick and painless.”

Cisco’s eyes got progressively wider as he spoke.  “You really – you didn’t know?  Until tonight?”

“Cisco,” Eobard crooned, and he couldn’t stop the hint of true affection.  Those dark eyes lived in his dreams even when the man himself had lived in his bed.

He would return to a cold mattress after this.  A cold life of one man instead of two and he held more tightly to the table to stop his shaking.

“I’ve been inside you.  You’ve been inside me.  If I had known earlier, you would have been dead long before now.  There have been ample opportunities to rid myself of one of the prominent members of Team Flash.  The only question is – why did you not rid Team Flash of one of your enemies?  I have slept beside you, had my back turned toward you, I have been completely at your mercy numerous times, I have smoothed with my bare hands every sharp edge of my heart so that you could carry it safely, and you have been _lying to me_!  None of this was real!”  His voice was rising.  He was all but screaming down at Cisco.  He forced himself to release the table and walk away.  The nightshift would begin soon.  He only had a staff of fourteen who were allowed on this floor and that was so that they could operate the machinery in his absence, spy on Team Flash, and communicate with the politicians and other international personnel he had in his back pocket. 

“Harry,” Cisco began, voice small.

“Eobard,” he instantly corrected.  For months, he had wanted Cisco to call him by his given name instead of his alias.  “I am Eobard Thawne.  Dr. Harrison Wells was a man who died tragically in a car accident with his wife over ten years ago.”

Cisco’s lips parted.  “Did you – did you kill them?”

“No,” he admitted.  “but Dr. Harrison Wells had something that I needed.”  A new start.  A new name.  He had been there when Dr. Harrison Wells and his wife had had a head-on collision with a drunk driver on a back road.  Fate was tricky like that – giving one person what they wanted at such a high price to others.  Eobard had only happened upon the accident as Dr. Harrison Wells lay dying, having crawled out of his overturned car.  Eobard had not even recognized the genius at first for the blood that covered him.  He had been attempting to use his trembling fingers to call 911, but he was quickly fading.  His wife, the intelligent and beautiful Tess Morgan, had been dead on impact. 

Even as he had watched, Dr. Harrison Wells had died. 

Eobard would never disclose why he had needed a new start, a new life, a new name, and he would never tell anyone that he had vomited before he had removed Dr. Harrison Wells’ body from the crime scene and replaced it with his own.  He had disheveled himself as well as he could and then had called 911.  It had been possible to take over Dr. Harrison Wells because of two factors:

He and the late Dr. Harrison Wells so closely resembled one another that Eobard had already autographed numerous copies of Dr. Harrison Wells’ books via excited fans.  Even down to the bone structure, they were identical; it had been highly uncanny to watch someone with his face be so successful and happy on television. 

Because of how closely they resembled one another, Eobard had become fascinated and had learned every little detail of Dr. Harrison Wells’ life leading up to the crash.  If he acted somewhat different afterward in regards to temperament and mannerisms, well – his wife had just died and he had been in a traumatic accident, regardless of his minor injuries.

Life had handed him everything he needed and all it had cost was everything he had had.

Numerous nights, Cisco had stayed awake with him due to what Cisco believed to be insomnia.  It was not.  It was a haunting.

He told none of this to his captive audience and instead turned toward the nightshift that was trickling in.  There were seven during the day and seven during the night so that there were only slight breaks in which no one was present.  While he would prefer no one to be present, there were individuals whose intelligence and discretion he had found purpose in recruiting.  He called them underlings and minions and they humored him by sticking Despicable Me stickers all over his office and giving him an #1 EVIL OVERLORD mug for Christmas.

He gave them very good benefits and long vacations and this was a large part of winning their loyalty.  Why they thought they could joke with him, he did not know and he did not care as long as they did not feel as if they had to betray him to protect their own lives.

They apparently found it funny to work in an ‘evil lair’.

None of his employees here worked above in S.T.A.R. Labs.  First of all, he had no desire to overtax them.  Second of all, he had wanted to keep this part of his life completely separate from his legitimate work.

“Would you like the remote, sir?” asked one of his underlings, holding it in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

“Thank you, Simmons,” he said as he took it.  “That is all.”

Simmons, who had never met Cisco, nodded and left as if one of the greatest minds and most radiant hearts in the world was not about to come to a virulent, painful end. 

Pure concentration of will made him not betray his nerves, but he still felt his mouth tremble.  “Don’t do this,” Cisco whispered.  He looked on the verge of tears, like how Eobard felt.  “Harry – Eobard – it’s not what you think.  I _didn’t_ know.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?” he snapped.  “Everything I desired in a partner saunters up to me in a gala _hosted_ by Citizen Cold and the Flash, but it was all coincidental?  Surely, you must know that I am not an idiot.”

Or maybe he didn’t.  After all, in the eight months they had been together, Eobard had never suspected a thing.  Surely, there had to have been signs, had to have been warnings in the sky – but he had been blind and deaf to all, holding desperately to Cisco’s warm light that had glowed in the darkness of his life. 

“It was coincidence!” Cisco growled.  “How do _I_ know that _you_ didn’t plan for this?”

“I told you, you would be dead already!”

“How do I know you’re not toying with me?”

“Why are you trying to turn this on me?” Eobard asked.  “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”  It mattered.  It was so maddening to have the man who betrayed him trying to make it sound as if it was the entire other way around.  “Tell me what you wanted from me and I will not turn on this Dark Matter Ray and cause your body to mutate into a shapeless blob of tumors and scattered particles.”

A tear trickled down Cisco’s face.  He resolutely shut his eyes and sighed through his nose.  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Tell me!” Eobard roared.

“You,” Cisco whispered.  “Just you.”

“ _Liar_.”

“Told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Tell me the truth!”

But Cisco would not.  He opened his eyes and stared directly up at the Dark Matter Ray.  His hands moved in their bonds, but he was incapable of attacking Eobard.  Eobard had never been certain if it was necessary for Vibe to raise a hand to direct his concentrated beams of interdimensional energy that were highly effective in ripping the Reverse-Flash’s speed from him, making him as slow as a morning jogger; luckily, such did seem to be the case.  Out of all of Team Flash, Vibe had always been the closest – even more so than Citizen Cold and Killer Frost working together to slow him down – to incapacitating him.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Cisco said.  He sounded defeated and hollow.

“I believe I already have.”

“Even if you kill me,” Vibe said, voice low.  “KillerFrost, the Flash, Green Arrow, Citizen Cold…  They’ll come for you.”

“Then nothing will be different,” Reverse-Flash said.  “Except that you will not be with them.”

He put his thumb over the red button – the button that, once pressed, would activate the Dark Matter Ray and destroy Cisco Ramon, the man he loved.  The man who had betrayed him.  The man who lived with.  The man who was his enemy.  The man he had wanted to marry some day very soon. 

His heart thundered and stuttered and his lungs were on fire. 

Cisco was staring at him with huge, watery eyes.  The tears fell consistently now.

“You don’t want to do this,” Cisco choked.

And that was when Eobard realized that he was also crying. 

The shame of being so weak in front of his enemy was almost enough to force his hand, and yet he could not move to destroy Cisco.  He could not, as if his hand was repulsed by the remote through properties of magnetism.

And like opposite charges, he was drawn toward Cisco and yet he could not, would not, give in.

He would not, could not, give in…

“I have to,” he said.

Cisco shook.  He whispered, “But I really did love you.”

He sounded so sincere, so shattered, that Eobard swayed away and then toward him. 

He forced himself to think logically.  Theoretically speaking, if Cisco _hadn’t_ known that he was the Reverse-Flash, he _did_ know now.  They could not return to the way they were, knowing one to be the villain and the other to be the hero.  It would be a betrayal, not of each other, but of their beliefs and morals. 

Love was hopeful and irresponsible, however, and his heart demanded that this could work if only he let Cisco _live_ …

He was the bad guy.  Cisco – Vibe – was the good guy.  Eobard could never be a hero and Cisco could never be a villain. 

They could never be together again after this.  Foolishly, Eobard might have given himself away instead of determining if Cisco really _had_ been put into his life to tear him down.

He had succeeded, but Eobard was beginning to contemplate that Cisco truly had never meant to.  His life was at an end and yet he looked as heartbroken as Eobard.  There was no rage, no spiteful, hateful last comments.  There were no snide remarks about the many times they had made love or slept together and Cisco did not mock how repetitively Eobard had stated his affections via flowers sent to Cisco’s workplace, dinners out on the town, and constantly holding his younger lover’s hand in full sight of others to loudly declare his success and happiness to all witnesses.

There were nights he had taken Cisco to a five-star restaurant in tuxedos and then returned home to jump into their old and worn pajama bottoms and shirts to watch black-and-white reruns on the television while eating a bucket of buttery popcorn.  He had been content, spoiled, and unabashedly pleased with his life.

Time slowed for Eobard – a second stretched each of its nanoseconds until it felt like minutes and he closed his eyes as he considered true idiocy. 

He pressed the green button – the redundant button that never should have been programmed into the system. 

The Dark Matter Ray whirred as it shut down and the braces on the metal slab table automatically released.

There was a long minute where he heard no movement – even the three nightshift employees in the dome with them had come to a standstill. 

“Um, sir?” asked Umeme uncertainly.

“He’s leaving,” Eobard answered.  He did not dare watch Cisco run out of his life and back to his precious Team Flash.

He would run after Cisco without a doubt, and he was fast enough to catch the other man before he could fight back.  He cinched the very urge to put Cisco in a gilded cage and keep him.

He could not bear to kill Cisco and he did not dare to watch Cisco slowly wither away in captivity.  How soft he had become.  How weak.

Slowly, he heard Cisco get off the table and then back away toward the door with the clearly labeled EXIT sign above it.  At the top of the three small steps, those footsteps stopped.

Eobard stared down at the toes of his glossy Oxfords.  He clenched his hands at his side to fight the urge to grab Cisco and run.  They both had too many responsibilities to this city to leave and among those responsibilities was to stop one another.

Eobard had the advantage in that he now knew the secret identities of the majority of Team Flash.  Yet he would always be at a disadvantage now; Cisco knew that Eobard could not kill him. 

Cisco could step between him and the Flash right before the killing blow and Eobard had no doubt that he would swerve to avoid ending the life of the man who held his heart in such cruel hands.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Cisco said from behind him.  His footsteps were coming closer, down the stairs and across the floor.  “We would be so stupid if we did this.”

His hand touched Eobard’s shoulder and Eobard was powerless.  He turned toward Cisco and Cisco stared up at him with tears and determination.  He wiped away the tears from Eobard’s face with no mind to his own and cupped his jaw in one hand.  Eobard leaned into his touch, a lonely, desperate fool.

“Damn it, I love you,” Cisco hissed.  He sounded truly affronted by that and Eobard could not help smiling in turn.

“It’s rather frustrating, isn’t it?”

“You’re not even Harry.”

“I did not kill him.”

“Could you have saved him?”  
“No,” he said honestly.  Yes, he had arrived while Dr. Harrison Wells had still been alive, but he had no doubt that help would never have arrived in time to resuscitate him.

“This is the most fucked up case of identity theft I’ve ever heard of.”

“Beyond a doubt,” he agreed, because it was true. 

“And you’re the Reverse-Flash?”

“As much as you are Vibe.”

“We can’t do this,” Cisco said, but he was already leaning forward and up.

Eobard eagerly met him halfway and wrapped his arms tightly around Cisco’s waist, shaken at the prospect of letting go.

“I love you,” Cisco whispered against his lips, and then his lips were hungrily attacked by Eobard’s.

“I love you,” he whispered as they began to move in slow, melodious circles, as if caught in the throes of ballroom music.  Cisco loved to sing and he loved to dance and he effortlessly pulled Eobard with him as he spun lazily across the floor, moving to some inner song.

“I’m an idiot,” Cisco gasped against his mouth, “and I love you.”

“This will never work,” Eobard said.

“Pessimist,” Cisco retorted.  And then he kissed him again.

It was millennia before they parted.  Eobard rested his forehead against Cisco’s and happily ignored the polite coughing of one of his underlings in the background and another’s softly spoke, “God _damn_ ”. 

“I love you,” Eobard finally said in turn. 

Cisco snorted.  “You know, I kind of figured, considering the whole ‘still living’ thing.”

“You stayed,” Eobard whispered, awed and confused.

“Making a point.”  Cisco pressed feather light kisses along his jaw.  “It’s supposed to be romantic.”

“I am a supervillain and you are a superhero.”

“So you clearly haven’t figured out how long Citizen Cold and the Flash have been in a relationship.  Hint: It was before Citizen Cold was _Citizen_ Cold.”

“There is a large difference between the mayor and myself,” he pointed out.  “You can never convert me to the side of good.”

“You already recognize that you’re the bad guy.  Not many bad guys will admit to being bad guys.”

“I can never be a hero.”

“You just literally saved my life.”

“From _myself_.”

“Everyone starts somewhere.”

“Cisco,” he said in a clear and finale tone of voice.  “You cannot change me.”

Cisco smiled cheekily.  “I already have.  That’s just part of being human – you change.  You’ve changed me too.”

Of course he hadn’t, was Eobard’s first thought.  But then he realized that, yes.  Yes, he had.  This confident man before him had been shy and nervous when they had first met, when they had first dated.  That man had been waiting for Eobard to leave and never come back, and yet the man before him now was so certain of himself that he chose to stay instead of fleeing for his life.

“You are as likely to change me into a hero as I am in making you a villain.”

“We’ll see,” Cisco chirped, the little bastard.

“Shouldn’t you be traumatized?” Eobard asked.  “Near death experience and all.”

“No – yes, actually.  Totally.  You need to take care of me, make me feel safe, spoil me a little.  I want a big, fluffy blanket and _champurrado_ and, while we’re at it, you can cuddle me and braid my hair and tell me how pretty I am.”

“Is that all?” he drawled.

“I demand a _Star Trek_ movie marathon and takeout.”

Overtaken, he kissed Cisco once more. 

This was going to be a disaster, and yet he could not stop himself from taking what he wanted, what was being freely given to him. 

Fate was tricky and had brought them together, and yet it would be them and their choices that aided them in adhering to one another through the hardships ahead.

“The evil overlord is a _teddy bear_ ,” whispered Umeme from somewhere out of sight.

“But I _like_ being a minion,” whined Takeshi, who had taken to wearing blue overalls to work.

“I am still a villain,” Eobard stated loudly for them to hear.  “This changes nothing.”

Except Cisco was tucked into his arms and giving him a Cheshire smile, as if this did indeed change everything.

Perhaps it would.

~::~

The End…

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Miike Snow's "Genghis Khan" music video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_SlAzsXa7E)  
> Also, there is this fanmade Harrisco version of Genghis Khan! --> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjF4ufLVojk


End file.
